From Ashes
by Midnathething
Summary: I always believed that reincarnation was something from fairy tales, merely another theory about what happens when we die. Honestly, I wasn't too thrilled to be proven wrong.
1. Prologue

My name's Naori, and I'd like to tell a story. It doesn't begin in a comfortable hobbit hole or in a galaxy far, far away. No, this story begins with a suicide. Looking back, that was one of the stupidest things I've ever done. Now, I'm not telling you about this to earn pity or seek attention; I'm telling you this because what should have been an ending became a beginning.

Honestly, I wasn't sure what was happening at first.

The Catholics believe that the punishment for killing yourself is going to Hell, so when I found myself being pushed from somewhere comfortable and _safe_ I thought I knew what was happening. The sound of someone else - someone _young_ \- wailing certainly didn't do anything to comfort me. I'm not sure if it was instinct or just being overwhelmed by what was happening, hell maybe it was both, but I quickly found myself crying too. Not the proudest way to enter the world.

An infant's eyes are woefully underdeveloped when they're born; This coupled with not understanding a word of what was being said around me (I later learned that this was because the people of the Elemental Nations speak Japanese) only reinforced my Gone-To-Hell theory. Between being convinced that I'd gone to Hell and not being to do _anything_ on my own, I was an awful baby.

Eventually, I realized that I hadn't gone to Hell. I suppose the tip off was recognizing a few of the words spoken around me: _Tou-San, Kaa-San, Itachi-Kun_... Reincarnation didn't cross my mind until I heard my twin brother's name - Sasuke. Denial was, of course, my first reaction. Being reborn in a fictional universe was something that only happened in _fanfiction_. My doubts were crushed when my mother's friend held me for the first time. The reasoning for this was twofold; First, the woman holing me was Uzumaki Kushina. Second was the Uchiha family crest, proudly displayed on the nursery wall.

It seemed disturbingly ironic that my second life was likely to be cut short too.


	2. Chapter 1

Despite the strange mix of anxiety and absolute petrifaction realizing I was an Uchiha created, I begrudgingly concluded that there wasn't much I could do about it at the moment. Instead, I decided to focus my time and energy in learning and becoming powerful enough to have a _chance_ of surviving. For the first two months of my life, that consisted of eating and sleeping. Honestly, it wasn't that interesting.

Kushina occasionally babysat, but most of the time the job of watching us fell to Itachi and Shisui. Not that the two seemed to mind, Itachi had decided that we were awesome for some reason and Shisui just seemed to enjoy the time with his friend. For the most part their baby sitting was uninteresting. The most notable thing was crying the first time Itachi had held me. Needless to say, he'd been devastated.

Whoops.

Overall, everything was going relatively well until October. The worst I'd had to deal with were growth pains and my developing chakra network. Not ideal, but hardly world ending. No, world ending was what happened on the tenth.

The day begun like any other: our father was too busy to bother with us, Itachi stalked our mother as she took care of us, and Shisui hovered, helping our mother when needed and occasionally teasing Itachi - Having Shisui around was honestly a like having a second older brother. Things began going oddly when our mother took Sasuke and I to see a - very pregnant - Kushina. The two women began speaking, eventually mentioning our names. An older woman, Biwako Sarutobi, seemed to appear out of nowhere.

I thought I'd have a heart attack.

The three continued speaking, their conversation impossible to follow with my pitiful understanding of the language, before eventually mentioning a name that caught my ear. _Naruto_. I'd realized what world I was in by then, but... Somehow Naruto hadn't crossed my mind. I spent a lot of time asleep, but not enough to justify not thinking about _the main character of the universe I'd been reborn into_. I vowed to write down everything I could think of about the Naruto world - whether it was from a video game, mover, or even filler - as soon as I'd mastered the motor control necessary to do so.

Our mother saying her farewells to the duo temporarily distracted me from _that_ chain of thought. While I knew what was going to happen, just how much destruction Obito was about to unleash, it still didn't feel real. The idea of these two powerful Kunoichi just... Just dying felt impossible. Still, I knew it would happen.

I tried to stay awake, semi-alert when it happened but... I was a baby. I'd dozed off.

I snapped awake and froze.

I could see the fires burning in the distance, hear Sasuke wailing, hell I could even _smell the smoke_ but I felt numb. It was all distant, lower priority. My mind and senses had frozen on the feeling of the chakra. It was pure malice, so strong that I could almost _taste_ the Kyūbi's desire for bloodshed. I entered a state of complete panic and just... Shut down. The closest comparison for it was a panic attack. It was devastating, so distracting that I didn't realize that someone was carrying me until we were outside.

The cool air seemed to press against me, heavy with the Kyūbi's energy. Shisui's voice cut into my thoughts, forcing my attention to him. Forcing me to calm down. He was using a genjutsu on me. I wanted to be upset, to try and fight it off but... That would mean returning to reality. To the Kyūbi.

The genjutsu stayed.

Eventually, we met up with Itachi, who had Sasuke and a young girl in his company. A voice in my head insisted that Itachi and Shisui had been together when they'd come to get Sasuke and I, but obviously they'd been separated at some point. Itachi and Shisui exchanged a few quick words before our cousin grabbed Itachi and the girl and made reality _bend_. Our surrounds changed and the impossible calm vanished, the majority of Shisui's chakra spent on the jutsu.

The malicious energy returned as suddenly as a punch in the face, shoving the air from my lungs in a startled gasp. Distant voices murmured, colored by hints of distress, and I felt myself being passed. Itachi's face swam into focus as he began murmuring something, his tone comforting even though I couldn't understand a word of what he said. I relaxed slightly, enough to breathe normally again. And then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the Kyūbi was gone.

The air felt empty, like an unexpected grand pause after a _crescendo_.

 **AN: A Grand Pause is a music term. It is a complete, and generally unexpected, freeze in the music that will generally last for a measure or two before the orchestra resumes playing.**

 **Crescendo is an Italian term used in music. It translates to "Growing" and is used to indicate that the orchestra should grow louder.**

* * *

 **Author's Note: Well, uh, this took a while to get out. Sorry about that, guys.**


	3. Chapter 2

Time passed quickly after the Kyūbi attack, although the main reason for that was probably that I was still an infant. Despite spending the majority of my time asleep, though, I came to a gradual realization; I _thought_ differently than I had in my previous life. My mind just... Worked differently. Things that previously would have slipped my mind - Names, dates, directions - Suddenly stuck. While it made learning the language easier it was... Alarming. The philosopher in me briefly pondered what this meant for _who_ I was. How much of who I was were my thoughts and feelings and how much was the design of my brain and the chemicals in my body?

That chain of thought was quickly shut down; An existential crisis wouldn't help me survive the Uchiha massacre.

After a bit of fretting, my altered mind was accepted as a new survival tool and I began to focus on re-leaning things from my previous life. Things like moving my arm in the direction I _wanted_ and sitting up by myself. Progress was agonizingly slow, but I was eventually able to transition to crawling and _trying_ to stand. I was extremely fortunate; Sasuke watched what I did and learned just as quickly, while Itachi either didn't realize that we were learning too quickly or didn't care. We were his precious younger siblings, after all. Even better, our parents were busy enough that they were oblivious to the rapid progress Sasuke and I made. Honestly, part of me was furious that they paid so little attention to _their own children_ , but I made no attempts to do anything about it.

I had no desire to be taken to see mountains of fresh corpses.

. . .

When our mother caught us walking - Toddling is a better word for it, really, we were staggering like drunks - She decided it was time for Sasuke and I to join her and Itachi for morning warm-ups. And though they were _much_ gentler and _far_ simpler than what she and Itachi were doing I hated every second of it. My muscles burnt and my already fragile balance kept giving, leaving me dirty and bruised. To make the whole ordeal worse, our mother insisted on doing warm-ups _with the sunrise_. My mind may have changed but I still hated mornings.

As much as I disliked them, good things _did_ come from morning warm-ups though. I was in good shape, which increased my survival chances, and we got to spend time with Itachi and - When he was visiting - Shisui. Once the two had left for their missions we would be sent off to lessons. Since Itachi was expected to inherit both positions of power by our kinsmen, lessons mostly consisted of potentially useful skills like dance or music. (The feeling of an instrument in my hands again for the first time in years was _glorious_.)

When Sasuke had asked why we were learning "Civilian skills that will be useless in the field," Our teacher had explained that we might not always be Shinobi and, "What will you do if you're crippled out of the active ninja pool?"

"Besides," He had continued, "People don't look nearly as closely at dancers or musicians as they do Shinobi."

I disliked that he'd spoken so casually about us getting career ending injuries and _hated_ that he'd scared Sasuke, but our teacher had a good point. So, while I wanted to dedicate all of my time to training, I listened to our teachers and studied arts and trade skills too. More potential disguises for infiltration missions would never _not_ be helpful and if I survived the massacre some of the skills could be useful. It wasn't like I'd be able to change my mind and ask our relatives to teach me in a few years.

While our lessons would be useful for going undercover as Shinobi, the only real training Sasuke and I seemed to get were ninja games and our morning warm-ups. I was painfully aware that this wasn't normal for our clan and, after a bit of snooping, realized that this was because our parents were expected to be the ones to teach us. They were almost always busy, though, which quickly led to Itachi and Shisui being drafted as our teachers in the Shinobi arts. It wasn't that I _wanted_ to become a Shinobi, but with the Uchiha massacre looming in the future and the knowledge that Danzō existed I didn't see any other way to survive.

If I was going to die I wanted to make my killer work for it.

. . .

 **Author's Note: Somewhat short chapter, but with this written we can finally transition to things _happening_. Next chapter should be longer.**

 **Kata: Choreographed patterns and movements, Kata were originally used for teaching and training methods by which successful combat techniques were preserved and passed on.**


	4. Chapter 3

**This didn't want to be written. At all. So after spending way too long of glaring at this chapter it's** _ **finally**_ **finished! Enjoy!**

The faint sound of bird song and running water reached my ears, a _Paino_ backtrack to the rustle of turning pages and near-silent breathing. Morning light shone through the windows, gleaming against the floors and providing ample reading light. The sliding door had been left open, allowing a gentle breeze to toy with the pages of my book. I leaned against Itachi as I read, a small smile tugging at my lips. It was remarkably relaxing and a good way recover from morning warm-ups, which were gradually becoming more intense.

"Itachi-Nii," Sasuke cried from the doorway, dragging my attention away from my book. He'd drawn the 'Nii' out in an oddly endearing whine. "You promised we'd go practice shuriken today!"

Unhelpfully, I pointed to one of the more complicated words in my book. "How's this one pronounced, Itachi-Nii?" The word "pronounced" still seemed awkward in my mouth, but Itachi had clearly understood the question because there was a small tremble of restrained laughter against my back. Our older brother carefully sounded out the word as he set his own book aside.

Sasuke pouted in response, though the expression was mostly directed towards me. "Naori, you're not helping! Besides, _you're_ the one who said you'd go crazy if we didn't do something today!" His expression screamed, ' _So there_.'

In response I gave an over dramatic sigh, marking my place in the book. "But I wanted to know more about the battle between the Sannin and Hanzō in Amegakure." I mimicked his whining tone from before, fighting back a smile.

Sasuke and I stared at each other for a few seconds before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

"Well then," Itachi spoke, rising to his feet. His eyes were warm. "Shall we go practice shuriken?"

. . .

The thunk of metal burying itself into wood reached my ears, the sound oddly satisfying despite most of the weapons missing their intended marks. I hadn't really thought about it when I was watching the anime, but throwing Shuriken was actually _really hard_. I sighed, glaring at the weapons for a moment. I was improving, but not nearly quickly enough. Another set of thuds and a disappointment sigh to my left implied that Sasuke's thoughts on the matter were quite similar to my own.

"Don't be disheartened, you two," I could hear a smile in Itachi's tone, "I don't expect you two to be perfect Shinobi, you're only two." There was no bitterness to his words, though I felt he was justified to some.

"But you could do this when you were our age." Sasuke muttered in protest, kicking at the dirt.

Sighing, our elder brother gestured for us to come closer. We complied silently, exchanging a curious glance. "You two aren't me, and I don't expect you to be." He sighed, pausing for a moment to organize his thoughts. "You two have talents of your own. You've both picked up speaking and reading incredibly quickly, I couldn't play the flute as well as either of you when I was your age, and I certainly wasn't being trained in dance"

I grimaced. "Honestly, I'd prefer Kata." Sasuke nodded in agreement, expression disproportionately intense given that the subject was _dancing_. It was adorable.

Itachi chuckled. "Perhaps dance wasn't the best example." And Sasuke and I were laughing, less then perfect performances with shuriken forgotten.

"Now," Our brother began when the laughter died down, "It's lunch time. You two have been working hard so it's important that you eat something." He pulled three bentos from his backpack with a smile.

We'd just sat down when something brushed at the edge of my awareness, drawing my lips into a faint frown.

"Itachi!" A male voice - Young, though that didn't mean much in this world - called. "We have a mission. Come on, you can goof off with the brats later." Turning towards the voice revealed a preteen with soot colored hair and black eyes. After a moment of thought I recognized him from Itachi's description of his team: Tenma Izumo. The name itself didn't mean too much to me but I'd already begun forgetting things from my previous life. Maybe he'd been mentioned in a filler arc?

Itachi sighed, disappointment flickering through his eyes before his expression shifted to Shinobi blank. "Sorry Sasuke, sorry Naori. We'll have to practice some other time."

"It's okay, Itachi-Nii." Sasuke answered, pouting. He straightened. "You've just gotta tell us about your cool ninja mission, 'kay?" He flashed a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.

I was disappointed but did my best to ignore the emotion, shrugging. Itachi's duty was to the village first; Sasuke and I could wait a bit longer for shuriken practice. "Be safe, 'Tachi-Nii." As the two Shinobi left I turned to Sasuke. "Guess we should tell Kaa-San that Itachi won't be home for dinner."

With Itachi and his teammate out of sight Sasuke had stopped attempting to hide his pout, but he nodded. Sighing again, I grabbed Sasuke's sleeve and turned to head home. An alarmed yelp escaped my lips when the motion revealed that another Uchiha had been standing _right behind me_.

"Hey kids." Shisui greeted, giving a small wave.

Sasuke gasped, instantly brightening upon seeing our cousin. "Shisui-Nii! You're back from your mission!" He paused, frowning. "But why'd you come out to the training field? You should rest after a long mission." Sasuke was mimicking the tone our mother used when Itachi returned from his missions and wanted to train.

Laughing, our cousin leaned forward to ruffle Sasuke's hair. "I heard Itachi had a mission and hoped to catch him before he left." He shrugged, "Ah well, it's probably for the best that I missed him. Someone has to make sure you crazy kids get home safe, after all."

After giving tokenary protests that we didn't need help getting home Sasuke and I seized Shisui's hands, glad to have a rare moment with our cousin. He was frequently busy with Shinobi work and, as a result, we didn't see much of him.

Eyes glimmering with mischief, Sasuke turned to our cousin as we walked. "Shisui-Nii, you promised to teach us Ninjutsu!" He pointed out, eyes darting to me in a silent que.

A grin tugged at my lips. "And you promised you'd teach us the Shushin." I continued.

Alarm flashed through Shisui's eyes. "No! Absolutely not!"

"But Shisui-Nii!"

. . .

To say something was bothering Itachi when he returned from his mission would be an understatement. He'd returned a few hours before dinner, gaze distant and thoughts clearly elsewhere. When our mother had offered him something for supper he'd mutely shaken his head and retreated to his room. It would be alarming behavior from anyone, but from Itachi - Someone who kept his emotions so carefully concealed - It was almost frightening. What had happened on the mission to do... This?

I'd tried to pick my book on the Second Ninja War back up but, after staring at the same page for multiple minutes, concluded that the distraction was unhelpful. Then came restlessly pacing, occasionally interrupted by me uncertainly hovering by Itachi's door. I wanted very badly to help him, to offer him words of comfort but... I wasn't even sure what had happened, let alone how to comfort him. After my fifth lap around the house I felt thoroughly useless. It made me unreasonably angry to know that there was nothing I could do to help my older brother. My mature response was to assault the tree in our back yard.

A bit of time passed, maybe thirty minutes, before Mikoto came to stop me. My knuckles had split and were throbbing and I was still upset. Mikoto led me inside with a sad smile, carefully helping me wash and bandage my hands before how to properly wrap them before "future tree assaults." While I enjoyed the chance to spend time with her, something was clearly on her mind.

"Kaa-San," I attempted, the words still awkward and uncomfortable. She was my mother in this life yes, but... Calling her my mother felt wrong, somehow, when I could still remember my first mother so vividly. "Is Itachi-Nii going to be okay?"

The question felt foolish - Childish, somehow - Once I'd asked it, but Mikoto had been a ninja before Itachi was born. She was more likely to be able to access the situation and what it would do to a child than I was.

Her brows creased, eyes painfully sad for a moment before she schooled her expression into something bland and vaguely motherly. I wondered, briefly, if the expression would have worked on a real child. "Eventually. He may be like this for a bit, Naori. He was hurt in here," She held a hand over her heart. "Some people take longer to heal from that than others."

I sighed. The answer was _technically_ honest but it had been delicately worded, meant to avoid upsetting a child my age. After a moment I asked, "Will it scar?" It was awkwardly phrased but between my shaky grasp of the language and age there were only so many ways to ask the question.

Sadness crept into Mikoto's expression again. "Probably. I'm not sure how badly yet, though." She shook her head, determination unexpectedly flashing across her features. "Walk with me, Naori-Chan?"

I nodded, getting up. We walked from the bathroom to the living room in silence. Carefully, Mikoto lifted me and sat me on the couch. "Stay put, alright Naori?" After I'd nodded she left the room, silent as a ghost. A few moments later she returned, Sasuke squirming in her arms. She sat carefully sat him down, an unamused frown making her opinion of the wiggling clear.

Our mother's fingers shifted into a vaguely familiar hand seal, her chakra humming before it split. A second Mikoto appeared with a puff of smoke, "I'll keep them safe." The clone promised.

The original Mikoto nodded, expression unsettlingly grim when she turned to Sasuke and I."Naori, Sasuke, I'm going out for a bit. There's someone I need to talk to." She paused, gave us a weak smile, and added, "Shadow clones are fragile so be careful with the clone, alright? I'll be back in time to make supper." She pressed kisses to our foreheads before disappearing in a swirl of leaves.

It was strange to me that our mother was willing to trust her toddlers to something as fragile as a shadow clone, but I couldn't help the wave of relief that washed over me when I realized that our mother was also worried about Itachi's abnormal behavior. I wondered who our mother intended to question, briefly imagined questioning them myself, before dismissing the thought with a dejected shake of my head. I was _two_. Even if I could manage to slip out of the house to question someone I doubted I'd get anything useful.

I wasn't exactly intimidating.

Turning to Sasuke, I offered a small smile. He'd undoubtably noticed that Itachi - and Mikoto and I, to a lesser extent - was acting oddly. I wouldn't be surprised if it had worried him. "Ro-Sham-Bo?" I asked, tone hopeful. It would be an idle distraction, at best, but worrying about something we couldn't change wouldn't get us anywhere. He nodded, giving a small smile as he turned to face me.

. . .

"Is Itachi alright?" Fugaku called, the sound of the door sliding drifting to my ears alongside his voice.

Our mother had returned about two hours before Fugaku, her expression grim. When we'd asked her what happened, if she knew more about what had upset Itachi, she'd been unwilling to tell us. Instead she gave us new toys - Two dinosaurs, one green and one blue - as either an apology or a distraction. It might have worked if I were a real two year old. Instead, it just confirmed that the only way I'd find out what had happened was through eavesdropping.

Sasuke and I shared a look upon hearing our father's voice, silently conferring for a moment, before moving towards our parents' discussion.

"He left his dinner." Our mother answered, voice laced with concern. "He's still laying down in his room."

"He's a ninja now. Teammates sometimes die in front of you." I jerked to a halt, eyes widening in disbelief. I'd known that death was common in this world but Fugaku had just dismissed the death of a _child_. I wondered, briefly, if he was able to dismiss the death so easily because he'd grown numb to it during the war. Even worse, I wondered if he'd dismissed the death so easily because whoever died hadn't been an Uchiha. Either way, it was sickening.

"But he's only eight." Our mother countered, "He should really still be playing at the academy with his friends."

"A testament to his talents." Fugaku answered, either missing or ignoring our mother's point. "It's precisely because he attracted the attention of people in the village that he got assigned the mission of guarding the Daimyo. And precisely because it was an important mission, it carried an element of danger. Living through the carnage time and time again is how a ninja grows up."

I scowled at Fugaku's words as I moved to catch up to Sasuke. He hadn't stopped when I'd paused earlier and now grew dangerously close to wandering into a conversation that was unpleasant _at best_. I wasn't keen on the idea of my younger brother wandering into the crossfire of angry Shinobi.

"Can't you get him into the Military Police, and have him working under you?" Our mother's voice had taken on a pleading note.

"He won't be joining the police force. I'm thinking about his future here. He needs to keep working hard as a Genin right now."

"But he's just-"

"It's fine," Fugaku interrupted, "I'm sure he'll get over it."

My stomach twisted into angry knots and, for a moment, I wanted to hit Fugaku as my two year old body could muster. Instead, I carefully grabbed Sasuke's sleeve and pulled him to a stop. I shook my head at his baffled expression, tugging him away from Fugaku and Mikoto's conversation. I'd explain to him later that our parents wouldn't like that we'd been listening and if he got mad at me so be it. It was easy to deal with an angry two year old, but I didn't have the first clue as to how to deal with angry Shinobi.

Once I was relatively confident that we were out of earshot of our parents I turned to Sasuke, attempting to shoot him a hopeful smile. "Show me some of the Kata Uncle Jirou was teaching you?" His eyes lit up, our parents' discussion forgotten in favor of the chance to show off.

Unfortunately, I was certain I wouldn't forget _that_ conversation so easily.

 **Paino: An Italian term used in music. It translates to "Quiet."**


End file.
